REMINISCENCES FROM THE MELBOURNE ZOO. 
191 
and the men’s offerings were arrayed on the guard-room table. Some 
had brought potatoes, some turnips, and one man’s contribution was a 
fine Spanish onion. Now a new cook had arrived on this eventful day 
— a cook who knew not Billy Bindon’s inveterate habit of arriving 
there at express speed after gaining his liberty, and he also was in com- 
plete ignorance of this goat’s playful little habit of inspecting the guard- 
room table and helping himself to any dainties that might have been 
overlooked by the cook when gathering up the men’s votive offerings. 
It really was not for this chance meal that Billy raced there like an 
express engine, for most cooks knew him so well that it was the rarest 
of good luck for him to lay tongue to unconsidered trifles, but tobacco 
never failed him, and the men often laid bits on the table for him to 
find. All Angora goats have a great liking for a quid of tobacco, and 
they will chew it like an old salt. All the rest of the flock, from the 
oldest down to the youngest kid, pranced gaily after Billy in the hope 
of receiving their share of such favors, but he was the prime favorite 
with the soldiers, who had petted and spoiled him for nearly four years, 
and who had won many a little wager by a capital trick he never failed 
to play when he knew he was on his honor to win for his friends. His 
horns were so wide that he had to turn his head sideways to get into 
the guard-room, but once inside he always bounded on the table without 
let or hindrance. This happy morning he found the delicious Spanish 
onion. As soon as he buried his teeth in this rarity, the sergeant and 
corporal, who knew the fun there was ahead, called to the cook to come 
and defend his property. Mick rushed into the dark room, and seeing 
the great horned animal on the table he cried in mingled rage and terror r 
“A puck goat! The devil’s got me onion!” 
He made a frantic rush at Billy in the hope of rescuing the perish- 
ing, but Billy had been there before — many a time — and was quite pre- 
pared for such emergencies. He calmly turned his great curling horns, 
got Mick underneath them, and with one twist made the unfortunate 
man turn turtle on the floor. Of course the whole company roared with 
delight at Mick’s discomfiture, and the crestfallen cook arose in a mighty 
rage. He made another spring at Billy, to capture the last fragments 
of the most necessary ingredient for the stew, but all he got was another 
overdose of horn, while the last sweet morsels of the onion disappeared. 
While the cook was picking himself up a second time, Billy jumped down 
from the table and waited to face his antagonist. He knew that he 
had to teach the newcomer the same lesson he had taught many another 
soldier before him. Mick was so enraged at the humiliating treatment 
he had received that he rushed to the door, caught up one of the rifles 
